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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27212809">champagne, cocaine, gasoline (and most things in between)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alana/pseuds/Alana'>Alana</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(gets fucked by a tentacle monster) boy this better not awaken anything in me, Dub-con to mostly consensual, Extremely Dubious Consent, Inspired by Dungeons &amp; Dragons, Other, Oviposition, Size Difference, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, surprisingly polite and reasonable fuckbeast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:14:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,156</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27212809</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alana/pseuds/Alana</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When he wakes up, the roiling void of space is looming over his collapsed form; between them is a smoldering wreck of some kind. Its embers still glow unnatural purple, and the black, starry mass looks distinctly... displeased with this.</p><p>"Oh, uh," Jasper says, because he's never learned how to keep his own damn mouth shut, "did I do that?"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>original halfling character/original eldritch god character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>86</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Trick or Treat Exchange 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>champagne, cocaine, gasoline (and most things in between)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/perkyplum/gifts">perkyplum</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Poppy looks <i>much</i> too delighted when Jasper, dancing along and playing his lute loudly in the long-abandoned, cave-quiet temple, knocks into an improbably lit candelabra and topples it into a moth-eaten tapestry.</p><p>"Ooooh, now you've <i>done it</i>," she crows, as the purple-white flames lick up the wall, and their gnome companions hustle to catch up with them. "Guys, Jasper set the wall on fire! What an idiot, right?"</p><p>"Put it out!" Yebe yelps in alarm, waving her arms and stumbling towards the fire for a moment before spinning on Jasper and demanding, "Use Create Water or something!"</p><p>"What do you think I am, a cleric?" Jasper says, with a laugh. "Come on, it's not a big deal, it's just one tapestry--"</p><p>The tapestry collapses off its metal hangar into a pile of smoldering ruin, exposing a secret passage behind, leading up into the rocks; the tunnel has Something trickling down its middle, a violet-black liquid that lights up as easily as oil, and the flames light its dark walls violet as they race away from the party.</p><p>"<i>Shit</i>," Yebe and Cockaby curse together, the two gnomes looking rather wild-eyed; Yebe smacks Jasper on the back of the head, which hurts <i>quite</i> a lot, and he whines, stepping away from her.</p><p>"-- Okay, one tapestry and some weird ichor," he admits, grumpily rubbing the back of his head. "Fuck, that hurt, Yebe, c'mon, it's fine."</p><p>Poppy says, "We should go see what's up there? Oooh maybe there's treasure!"</p><p>Cockaby, as quiet as any ranger could ever aspire to, steps gingerly forward around the blazing tapestry and peers at the carvings that had been hidden by it. He sucks in a breath between his teeth, and chews his prodigious mustache in the corner of his mouth. "Wouldn't," he contributes, lowly, and Yebe grabs both their more delicate halflings by their arms, dragging them back a couple steps despite protests.</p><p>A horrible noise echos down the tunnel, like if the darkness of the night sky could scream in rage, and the solid rock floor under them, carved straight out of the mountain, trembles like a fancy gelatin dessert on a noble's plate.</p><p>"S'a shrine, up there," he adds, mildly, and tells Yebe, "Should go." </p><p>"No fuckin' shit," Yebe agrees, shrilly, and uses her strong arms for pulling the halflings away, paying no heed to Poppy's protests about possible treasure, nor Jasper's protests that she was going to tear his clothes. "Stop dawdling, we've got to <i>leave</i>," she snaps at them, with a shake; Cockaby is taking off past them like a bat out of the Underdark, grabbing Poppy's other arm and forming a chain of sorts, dragging them all along behind him.</p><p>Jasper cries out in annoyance as his shirt's sleeve tears at the shoulder, and his lute is jostled out of his grip, falling to the wobbling stone floor and snapping a string. He snaps too, yelling, "Fine, fine, I'll follow you, let go! I can run better without you holding on!"</p><p>Yebe doesn't seem in a mood to argue, and lets go of him; in an instant he's turned to reclaim his lute, and sees starry blackness sweeping out from the secret passage, purple-white flames wreathing the roiling outline of the... whatever-it-is.<br/>
He gawks for just a moment, which is enough time for it to boil down the hallway towards them at terrifying speeds; he chucks his lute at it, turns, and books it, which does nothing except make it roar again, the cacophony of a thousand out-of-tune clarinets layered endlessly over each other. All four of them stumble, and the gnomes pull Poppy along harder when she nearly falls.</p><p>But none of them are holding on to Jasper, and none of them can pull him up when he falls, and before he can do more than yelp, the blackness envelops him, and his mind goes dark. </p><p>***</p><p>When he wakes up, the roiling void of space is looming over his collapsed form; between them is a smoldering wreck of some kind-- maybe an altar? Or a particularly blocky wooden statue? Whatever it is, its embers still glow unnatural purple, and the black, starry mass looks distinctly... displeased with this.</p><p>"Oh, uh," Jasper says, because he's never learned how to keep his own damn mouth shut, "did I do that?" </p><p>The faint whisper of the void rises into a scream, and Jasper, wincing, says, "Sorry-- sorry! Wow! If I'd known that you were up here, I would've been more careful!"</p><p>It subsides down, with a grumble like a distant rumble of thunder, and looms expectantly at him.</p><p>"... I'm really sorry?" he tries, pushing himself up onto his elbows. "Was that really important to you, buddy? Wow, and this place had been sealed for eighty years, or at least that was what the guy in town said-- was it all you had in here?"</p><p>The grumble churns to silence, and the looming form over him flattens down a little, with a faint, very distant whine.</p><p>"Wow," Jasper says, "you must've been really lonely. No one coming to see you, no one bringing you anything... did you used to get worshiped, buddy? (Cockaby did say this was a shrine...) I know what it's like, being all popular and cool, and then suddenly no one comes to pay attention to you anymore--" His inability to shut up seems to be working, despite all odds; the unknown being is growing calmer and calmer, the tendrils of space around him sweeping across the ground like-- like a calmed dog's wagging tail, honestly. Weird. Cute? Weird! "-- and I bet a big, powerful guy like you used to be really popular to worship, huh?"</p><p>The blob gives the distinct impression of nodding forlornly, though Jasper could hardly describe the movement it makes to give that impression.</p><p>Jasper gives a nearby tendril of blackness a tentative little pat of comfort, and finds it warm, firm, and not at all unpleasant under his hand.</p><p>"Well, uh, I'll need to go find my party again soon," he tells it, with another pat; it, uh, <i>purrs?</i> and bubbles closer, "but I could try and fix up your altar for you? I might have something to use as an offering, too, I mean, as long as I'm up here," okay that's definitely purring, "if that's okay with you, pal?"</p><p>It seems okay with that, because it unlooms further, and slinks to settle behind him, and gently pushes him towards the altar. Fix it! it seems to be saying, and Jasper sets in to work.</p><p>•••</p><p>His back hurts and his throat's pretty dry from <i>how much</i> he had to cast Mending on the altar, but, Jasper decides, he did some pretty good work! The God-Critter (as he's decided to call it) has, possibly, taken a nap behind him, though he's not entirely sure if that's actually what its quiet stillness has meant-- but it had left him to his Mending without complaints, growls, or whines, so that's good enough for him.</p><p>And, hey, if a handful of lodestones and a few dozen cantrips are all it takes to get him out of this without paying in blood, he's down! Jasper is always down for not paying for his mistakes in blood! He's very very okay with this arrangement!</p><p>He pats the top of the Mended altar, which has some really <i>interesting<i> carvings along the sides and an oddly wavy top, and turns around to inform the God-Critter, "All fixed, buddy!"</i></i></p><p>
  <i>
    <i>It startles out of sleep(?), and roils upwards, a starry black curtain against the stone walls of the shrine, voice rising into a discordant mumble; then it falls forward, to sneak its tendrils over the altar, and definitely purrs again to find it whole and secure and un-burned. Jasper rubs his hand over the nearest tendril to him, lightly, and asks, "Will that do, buddy?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>It burbles and purrs and sneaks a tendril over <i>him</i>, which should probably be terrifying, except the creature seems generally good-natured despite its dark and unworldly appearance. He giggles as it ruffles through his hair, and claps his hands together, and offers, "Anything else I can do for you? To make up for the trouble? I offered to make you an offering, I know-- I have some wine, I think--"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The God-Critter roils thoughtfully, the stars shifting through its darkness, and then gently picks up the halfling and deposits him on the altar.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jasper freezes up a little-- yeah, okay, he <i>knows</i> halflings are easy to pick up, he's been physically hauled around by enough elf-and-stronger party members to have switched to only teaming up with other small races, but that's never stopped the experience from being mildly mortifying for a multitude of reasons-- and then tenses from head to toe. "Uh, you're not the kind of guy who wants living sacrifices, are you?" he babbles, nervously, and pats one of those tendrils again. "I'm pretty sure I'm not big enough to be a proper sacrifice, buddy, I could totally go out and find you something bigger and bloodier than me--"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The tendril he's patted curls sweetly around his wrist, and another snakes up the inside of his thigh, and a third starts pushing in under his belt.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"<i>Oh, uhm,</i>" he squeaks, and gets a friendly purr in reply, the black mass of his... very friendly new friend pressing in closer, gently pressing him back on the altar. Oh, that explains the interesting carvings, doesn't it? And, as his body is arched gently over the strange shape of the top of the altar, his hips are lifted and his shoulders pressed down-- Jasper flushes, and squirms a little bit, and babbles even more nervously, "I'm not a virgin, either, so I really won't do as a virgin sacrifice-- are you sure you don't just want libations? Free performance?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The God-Critter seems entirely uninterested in the other offers, and extremely interested in stripping Jasper bare, tendrils surprisingly competent in removing his clothes without damaging them. After an eighty year drought, it's probably not terribly picky about if its "offering" is untouched...</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"It's not that you're not very pretty," he tells it, and before he can continue the God-Critter presses in close, purring eagerly, the stars within it sparkling and swirling-- its purrs tremble through its entire form, thrum against him, vibrate right on his newly-bared dick like nothing Jasper's ever felt before. "Oh fuck," he whimpers, because oh, fuck, that feels kind of great-- even if it's a big monster-thing doing the great-feeling-thing-- "--but, but, aren't you kind of old for me? And big? I-I mean, I don't know if you've noticed, but-- but I'm about half the size of a human, or elf, or orc-- halfling, you see, half-sized, that's me--"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>It purrs again, and envelops his body in darkness, his pants tugged off his ankles with ease as tendrils of darkness curl over his arms and chest and jaw, lay lightly over his throat, rub with interest over his mouth.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jasper definitely thinks it doesn't mind him being half-sized, no matter how worrisome he finds it; what if it expects him to be as durable as whoever worshiped it before? Or what if it doesn't care if he's not, and gleefully takes his body as offering without minding the damage it does? Being good-natured and surprisingly reasonable for a whatever-it-is doesn't mean it knows what it can do without hurting him--</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>But he doesn't see any way out of this without either a daring rescue or talking his way free, and he can only work on one of those on his own, so he opens his mouth to try another tactic-- he's not sure what tactic, yet, but he's gonna try it!-- and is promptly cut off with one of those tendrils sliding past his lips.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He squeaks, and squirms, and the God-Critter purrs louder. Its tendril is firm and warm and gentle, and tastes faintly like how a library smells, warm and paper-dusty and with a shimmer of bound magic that makes his tongue tingle as it rubs sensually against it. Jasper squirms some more, hands pushing at the God-Critter, face feeling hot as his heart pounds, and the tendril pulls free, wet with his saliva as it rubs across his lower lip.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"-- y-you sure you want <i>me</i>?" he tries, nervously-- normally that's not a question he'd ask, normally as a bard he's <i>trying</i> to get laid, fully confident in his attractiveness and wantedness-- and the starry blackness grinds against his cock, making it twitch with interest despite his many, many misgivings.  "I'm not even really a worshipper--" he says, and the tendril at his mouth pushes past his lips again, a little more impatiently. <i>Doesn't matter to me,</i> it seems to say, as it leaves his mouth tingling around its starry flesh, grinding over his tongue and pressing eagerly against the back of his throat; he has just enough time to suck in a breath through his nose before it pushes deeper, carelessly fucking his throat.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Despite himself, Jasper's cock swells with arousal, at having his air cut off, at being so helplessly ravished, at the feeling of something moving inside him-- <i>traitor,</i> he thinks at it, because yeah he's <i>into</i> that but normally with people he'd <i>asked</i> to play like that with him, and not with monsters of unknown and probably unearthly origins. And then it's hard to think much of anything at all, as his body willingly responds to the unwanted throat-fucking, the wet rub of the tendril over his lips and inside his mouth and past his tonsils, the light-headed danger-thrill of not being able to breathe, of being helpless--</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He's left panting and dizzy when the tendril finally tugs free of his throat, cock hard as a rock and mind completely wiped clean of objections for at least a few moments. It knew, at least, to stop fucking his throat before he passed out entirely-- maybe it knows what it's doing with him-- maybe he only has to be a <i>little</i> scared, like, a sexy amount of scared, not a fearing-for-his-life scared--</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Then it shifts above him, like a blanket of night pulling aside to reveal the rock ceiling once more, and he feels the spit-slicked tendril pressing at his ass.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"H-hey, hey, heyheyhey," he objects-- but he's pretty sure that nothing he can say will dissuade the God-Critter, and his objections taper off into a meek, "-- be careful? Please? I only have one ass, and it'll be super embarrassing to explain this if I end up needing to get healed--"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The God-Critter giggles, he thinks, though the noise of it makes his head hurt a little, and its starry body snuggles down close to him, more tendrils unfurling from the indistinguishable black mass of it to wriggle under Jasper's body. It's a considerate gesture, raising his hips even higher and cushioning behind his head and shoulders, but it also cages him in even more than the creature's weight already did, and he swallows hard, choked by arousal and nerves. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>And then... it <i>is</i> careful, stroking his hole without trying to push in, leaving that gentle tingle of magic on his skin wherever the tip touches. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jasper sighs in relief, eyes fluttering closed. Boy, he could've had better luck today, but-- but he sure could've also had a lot worse, huh? If he lets himself forget that he didn't ask for this, it feels damn nice, if a little intimidating, the tendril working to relax him even as another tendril pulls his thighs further apart. A third one slips around his cock, to jerk him off with motions equally slow, which is edging towards torturous within seconds-- forgetting himself as pleasure dances electric up his spine, he rocks his hips, eagerly chasing more friction, and his cock rubs against the purring monster's trembling skin.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The God-Critter's purrs deepen, and it rubs its bulk back down against Jasper. Moaning approvingly, he grinds up against all that lovely vibrating warm friction... and the tentacle working at his hole takes that as a signal, pushing into him eagerly and drawing out a startled cry of pleasure. The creature really <i>had</i> been careful, it doesn't hurt at all, it just feels good-- good and tingling with magic and unerringly pressing its tentacle up against the most sensitive, pleasurable parts inside him, better than any two-legged lover he's ever had-- even as it presses deeper, the tentacle always curves and presses and rubs right where it's needed to make Jasper gasp and moan and whine, until he's arching and trembling and panting from pleasure.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>With only a few more strokes around his cock and inside his ass, Jasper finds himself overwhelmed with pleasure-- it's embarrassing how quickly he comes, fucked by this unearthly creature, and he's going to have to do some kink-searching about that later, when he's not jizzing all over the God-Critter's scattered-star belly, groaning and clinging to its tendrils, thoughts scattered by his pleasure.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>It rumbles smugly, and squirms a little atop him, the warm bulk of its body shifting and tendril pulling free of Jasper. A flash of disappointment rolls through him, despite himself-- what, that's all? He comes once and they're done? He doesn't even get filled with unearthly cum for being a (totally, definitely) unwilling offering?-- until he feels another tendril rubbing against his hole.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Mmmmnh, yeah," he mumbles, eagerly, and the tendrils cradling his body tip his hips up more. "Yeah, c'mon, buddy," he encourages, and presses a kiss to the nearest bit of monster he can reach; with a purr, the God-Critter pushes into him again, the tip rubbing in gently. It feels good-- so good-- and slicker than the last tendril, why didn't it lead with this one?</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He realizes why a second and a half later, when he feels the slick shaft of the tendril getting thicker as it pushes into him, odd bumps and bulges rubbing past his hole-- oh, <i>fuck</i>, it's because it's <i>so much bigger</i>, the tendril before this was just getting him warmed up. Jasper squirms nervously, despite his previous encouragement, and presses his forehead to the creature above him. "O-okay, I know I just said to come on--" he whines, and gets an amused little noise out of the God-Critter as it flexes the tendril inside him, making him gasp and whimper and cling harder before it pushes in deeper, and deeper, and deeper, deeper than anything's ever been in him before, getting thicker and harder for him to take-- but it's so slick, it's pushing in smoothly, too, it hurts a little to be <i>so</i> full but it also feels kind of incredible, and Jasper can't find his words again for a few seconds when it comes to a stop, stuffed beyond what he'd have though he could take.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"... okay, okay, fuck," he whispers, and nuzzles at the beast, who purrs back before rearing up, leaving his torso bared to its gaze. Even though it doesn't have visible eyes. Jasper does, though, and he opens them, and looks down at himself, at the thick thing stuffed into his hole, at the--</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The God-Critter shifts the tendril inside him, and the rounded bulge of his belly shifts with it, and Jasper discovers something new about himself, slapping a hand over his mouth to keep himself from moaning like-- like he wants more.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Which. He thinks he does.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He drops his head back against the tendrils under him, and closes his eyes, but that doesn't stop him from seeing it behind his eyelids-- from imagining how it looks, with every shift of the slick tendril inside him moving under his skin-- he stuffs a knuckle into his mouth and bites down, trying very hard not to cry out for more. But it keeps moving inside him, and he can't help the way he moves with it, hips jerking up and cock twitching despite having already spent itself, tears catching in his eyelashes as the grind of it inside his hole makes over-sensitive sparks of pleasure overwhelm him. Despite himself, he moans around his attempt to muffle himself, and the God-Critter shoves another length into him, making him moan louder, glance down again at his tendril-rounded belly-- and that makes him moan again, seeing how much the huge, warm mass inside him is distending his body--</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>With a pleased purr, the God-Critter caresses him with starry tendrils, rubbing affectionately over his skin as it fucks him slow, gentle, and impossibly deep, leaving him a moaning, desperate mess as it takes its time with him. He's gonna die, not from the creature being too rough with him, but from never getting stuffed like this again afterwards-- no one's ever gonna be able to measure up-- fuck--</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>His attention is caught up from his preemptive mourning when the creature sighs like wind through leaves, and startlingly hot fluid is spilled deep inside him, the whole length of the tendril-- cock?-- twitching inside him with every spurt of monster seed while the slimmer tendrils holding him squeeze and rub gently against his skin. And there's a lot of spurts-- despite knowing he'll regret it (because this is making him so horny), Jasper peeks down again between them, watching as the distinct bulge of tendril inside him is softened by the seed filling him up.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Yeah, that was a mistake-- his cock is making its way towards half-hardness again, and he bites his knuckle harder, whimpering at the hot fullness inside him, both how it feels and how it <i>looks</i>.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Gently, the God-Critter tugs his hand away from his mouth, and he whines at it, because that was all that was between his frankly embarrassingly eager moans and whatever hearing orifices it has; it pays his whining no mind at all, and deliberately squirms its tendril-cock inside him, making his back arch and his voice break on a cry of pleasure. "Bully," he accuses, breathlessly, because he's feeling <i>very</i> bullied, and gets an unapologetic purr and more squirming movements inside him, even as he moans and complains and his cock finds its way to hardness again. Teasing him like this isn't fair at all, but the creature keeps doing it, keeps forcing eager noises out of him, until it suddenly crashes back down over him, rubbing and purring and petting at him, cock making itself comfortable with only faint, lazy wriggles.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jasper grumbles and wiggles back, until he feels the tendril-cock suddenly jolt inside him, and a sudden stretch of his already-stretched hole-- "Ah, fuck, what the <i>fuck</i>--" he curses, toes curling and head falling back, as the pressure travels up inside him, grinds over the sensitive parts inside him, makes his cock bob and precum drip eagerly from its tip-- and then a second bulge follows. A third follows, and a fourth, and by then Jasper is half-sobbing in pleasure as each stretches his hole open even more, rubs across his prostate in passing, and keeps spreading him deeper and deeper and deeper.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The sensation is so alien that he can hardly even begin to describe what's happening to him in words; at about the eighth mass moving into him, he comes without his cock even being touched except in passing, and then he doesn't have the thoughts to think about it, either. But they don't stop at eight, or ten, or twelve, and Jasper's crying and shuddering with overstimulation and a nearly-unbearable level of fullness when, finally, the tendril inside him starts to withdraw, leaving him jelly-limbed and hazy-brained and panting.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Seemingly extremely content with this situation, the God-Critter purrs drowsily, and uses its grip on Jasper to pull his unresisting, fucked-silly corpse off the altar, and into a warm, starry embrace. Its tendril-cock continues rubbing idly across the seed-leaking hole it had so thoroughly claimed as its offering, and its other tendrils caress and pet Jasper's gently egg-rounded belly as the halfling falls into an exhausted sleep.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>•••</p><p>The next morning, Jasper uses all his stealth to sneak out from under the sleeping beast's embrace, body heavy with eggs (because, in retrospect, he's pretty sure that's what had been pushed into him--) and horny shame.</p><p>When he reappears at the town they'd claimed the quest at, he absolutely refuses to explain what happened, or why he seems to be a little pregnant. Poppy, flighty as she is, forgets to keep questioning it; Yebe, practical and strong, pulls him aside and offers to find a cleric to take care of his problem for him; Cockaby, chewing on the tip of his mustache, asks, calm and unjudging, "Gonna make more offerings? S'gonna be hard, maintaining a shrine like that alone."</p><p>Jasper, who has not been able to stop thinking about <i>making offerings</i>, flushes and hits Cockaby in the arm, which does nothing because Jasper is only a bard. "No, of course not," he says, grumpily, and gets a lazy smile that doesn't seem to believe him.</p>
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